


the dying blue flame

by princesskay



Series: fragile (handle with force) [3]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Season/Series 01, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: The moment the car started spinning out, Bill knew he was fucked.After the car crash, Bill grapples with the evolving nature of his relationship with Holden.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Series: fragile (handle with force) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552183
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	the dying blue flame

The moment the car started spinning out, Bill knew he was fucked. 

Later, in the diner, he tells Holden about his son, about Brian. He veils himself in fatherhood, and for what? There’s no escaping the look in Holden’s eyes, or the promise of much more lurking on his pale skin just below the fragile barriers of clothing. 

He had told Holden this arrangement was purely about sex. He loves his wife. He loves his son. He loves his stable, boring life.  _ Yeah, loves it so much that he just soaked it in gasoline and lit the whole fucking thing on fire.  _

Still, he doesn’t complain that Debbie can’t come pick them up until tomorrow, and that they’ll have to share a hotel room until she arrives. 

Part of him is as whipped into submission as Holden had been not three nights ago. He’d kept it together for as long as he could - which had turned out not to be very long at all - until he broke beneath the enormity of his desires, a dark collection of impulses and triggers buried deep in his psyche where he’d meant to leave them long ago. 

He should have known, he was fucked long before that Pinto shot out of nowhere and threw Holden’s life into danger. 

The motel turns out to be half-decent, a two-story affair with doors facing the highway a mile off and a balcony on the upper level that’s littered with cigarette butts. After the diner, they settle in for the night, and Bill goes out onto the balcony to add his own spent cigarettes to the mess. 

A cracked, plastic patio chair offers an uncomfortable respite from the small corners of the shared motel room, but the mediocre view of the interstate provides just enough distance to be soothing.

While Bill smokes and fumes, he wonders where all his self-control went. He’d made a promise to himself a long time ago that if he was going to cheat on his wife, it would always be a one-off. A brief moment in time to take the edge off. No emotional connection, no chance of dramatic entanglement into someone else’s issues. Never someone he works with. He thought he knew his limits, and even now he can imagine building the barrier back up. It’s when Holden gets them alone, when he has no accountability to anyone else, and when his needs overpower his logic that he goes amnestic. 

As the sun starts going down over the distant stretch of the freeway, the hotel door creeps open. Holden peeks out onto the balcony. He’s already dressed for the evening in his pajamas. 

“Are you coming in soon?” He asks. 

Bill takes a drag of the lingering stub of his cigarette before pitching it over the edge of the railing with a flick of his finger. 

“Yeah, in a minute.”

“I thought you’d want to call Nancy to at least let her know what’s going on.”

“I will.”

Holden steps out onto the balcony in his bare feet, avoiding the littered cigarette butts. He stands close to Bill’s chair, and Bill can smell the vanilla sweetness of shampoo competing against the spicy tang of aftershave. 

“What about after?” Holden asks, quietly, his gaze fixed on the sunset bathed landscape. 

Bill shifts in the chair, and glances up at Holden’s soft profile. “What about it?”

“You know.” Holden murmurs, lowering his head and toeing at a loose pebble. “Are we going to … are you-”

“You still want to?” Bill asks, scoffing quietly. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, for starters, you got banged up in a car crash this morning - one that I caused.”

“That guy was driving like a maniac.”

“Sure.” Bill says, “The fact that I just finished telling you about my son doesn’t bother you either?”

“Not really.” Holden says, “We agreed this was just sex.” 

“Yeah, okay. I’m just giving you the opportunity to back out before you get too involved.”

“I’m already involved.” 

Bill clenches his jaw, unable to offer a rebuttal to the obvious truth.

Wandering across the balcony, Holden braces his elbows on the railing, and leans forward to let the wind tousle his hair. Bill pretends not to watch him - the way he looks perfect framed against the pink and purple sunset, the warm color on his cheeks, the innocuous drape of his blue pajama trousers over his backside - but his gaze keeps wandering anyways. 

He rouses himself from the chair, and joins Holden at the railing. Holden peeks over at him as he reaches into his pocket for a new cigarette. As he cradles his hand over the flame of his lighter, Holden turns around to brace his back against the railing. 

“You smoke a lot when you’re stressed.” He observes, quietly. 

Bill snaps the lighter shut, and casts Holden a glare through a cloud of smoke. “It helps.”

Holden bites his lower lip for a moment before gathering his courage. “Can I try it?”

“What? Smoking?”

Holden nods, his gaze flicking anxiously between Bill and the cigarette. “Yeah.”

Bill raises his eyebrows, surprised by the suggestion. He’s told Holden numerous times that he should take up cigarettes just to burn off his nervous energy, but never once had he ever expected Holden to actually consider the offer. 

Bill hands the cigarette over to him, and leans against the railing to watch as Holden balances it awkwardly between his fingers. 

“You ever tried to smoke a cigarette before?” He asks. 

Holden shakes his head. “It was prohibited when I was a kid.”

“Probably wise.”

Holden draws in a deep breath before gingerly bringing the cigarette to his lips. 

“Careful.” Bill says, his brow furling as Holden’s lips clamp around the cigarette and his cheeks hollow with an inhale. 

Holden quickly drags the cigarette out of his mouth again, his brows pinching with a disgusted cringe just before he starts to cough. 

Bill bites back a smile as Holden turns away, burying his choked cough in the crook of his elbow. He steals the cigarette back from Holden’s hand, and tucks it in his mouth before reaching over to pat Holden in the middle of his back. 

Holden’s coughing eases, and he drags his elbow away from his mouth to expose watery eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“You okay?” Bill asks, stifling a chuckle. 

“Fine.” Holden says, lifting his chin to regain some dignity. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“I could get the hang of it if I practiced.” Holden says, reaching out his hand for the cigarette again. “Here, let me try again.” 

Bill takes the cigarette from his mouth, and exhales a stream of smoke. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just one more bad habit anyway.”

Silence settles between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air:  _ another bad habit - just like us.  _ For a long moment, Bill hears its quiet echo, the way it slips out into the impending night and begs reality to come crashing down between them. He knows Holden hears it too, and Holden’s curiosity can’t be muzzled, no matter how many rules Bill lays out. 

He’d left that night with a thousand questions swimming in Holden’s eyes, and as he glances over now, he can see them brimming free. 

Holden crosses his arms, and gazes down at his bare toes curling against the coarse cement. “Why don’t you break it off with me?”

“You want me to?”

“No, of course not. I’m just curious. Why break your own rule about never cheating with the same person twice?” 

Bill focuses on the cracked asphalt in the parking lot below them. Ashes tumble from his cigarette as he reaches his arm over the edge. 

“It’s not that simple.” He says. 

“You’ve done it before.” 

“You ask way too many questions, you know that?” Bill says, cutting Holden an irritated glance. 

“That wasn’t a question.” 

Bill shifts his focus back to the distant, winding path of the interstate, and inhales on his cigarette. The smoke streaming from his lips is plucked away by the breeze, and carried down the balcony away from them. 

“What do you want me to say?” Bill asks, “That you’re different? Make you feel special?”

Holden’s expression is wounded for a moment as he absorbs the defensive jab. 

“Just don’t try to make this more than it is.” Bill says, cutting a firm hand through the air. “It’s sex, Holden. I’m just warning you that if you ask too many questions, you might end up finding out something you didn’t need to know and getting your hurt feelings.”

“I’m not as sensitive as you think I am. I can handle this.”

“Oh, can you?” 

“Yes.” Holden says, his eyes flashing as he reaches over to grab the cigarette from Bill’s limp fingers. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.” 

Holding Bill’s gaze, Holden purses his lips around the cigarette and inhales carefully. Smoke spills from his nostrils and across his flushed cheeks before he opens his mouth to breathe out another curling stream. He manages not to cough, but his eyes are watering so intensely that the dark fringe of his eyelashes glisten in the dying light. 

“See?” Holden whispers. 

Bill takes the cigarette back and glances away, both impressed and frustrated by Holden’s persistent attempts at pleasing him. 

_ That’s the fucking problem.  _ He thinks.  _ Overall, Holden is still that blue flamer that Bill first met in the cafeteria, but at his core, he just wants someone to tell him what to do. Even if that something is terrible and unforgivable.  _

“Anything, huh?” 

Holden lifts his chin defiantly. “Yes.” 

“Okay.” Bill says, taking one last drag from the cigarette, tasting Holden’s saliva, just before he flicks it over the edge of the balcony. “You want to make me prove that?”

Holden gazes at him with wide eyes, his mouth trembling softly. “Right now?”

“Yeah, right now. Or are you not up for it?”

“No. I’m up for it.”

They silently trade stubborn glares for a long moment before Bill jabs his chin towards the hotel door. “Good. Then go in there, and take off your clothes.”

Holden swallows hard, his cheeks flushing with color. 

Bill pushes away from the railing, and closes the space between them. His chest barely brushes Holden’s as he leans in close, his breath fanning Holden’s cheeks. 

“I want you on your knees on the bed, face down.”

Holden draws in a shaky breath through his nostrils, and gives a small nod. He turns to go inside, and Bill gives him a light slap on the flank. “Go.”

Holden stumbles inside, and Bill stands on the balcony, breathing hard, trying to pull back the reins on his burgeoning desires. It’s difficult to find control when Holden is so fucking infuriating, so stubborn and impertinent. His attitude only makes Bill want to break him more, to bend him over and punish him until he’s crying and pleading and compliant. 

His cock is already twinging as he goes inside, and nudges the door shut behind him. 

The yellow drapes over the window cut off the draining sunset, leaving the room in soft shadow and pale light. The narrow seams of sunlight that manage to creep past the edges fall across the bed in yellow lines that stripe Holden’s naked skin. His clothes are in a hastily discarded pile on the floor as he crawls to the center of the bed on his knees, and leans forward to plant his elbows in the mattress. 

Warm need dissolves in Bill’s veins like a powdery drug, fast-acting and heady. He draws in a steadying breath as he slowly crosses the room. Keeping his gaze fixed on Holden’s crouched position on the bed, he leans down to dig through Holden’s bag for the Vaseline. It's there in the bottom corner, a presupposition on Holden’s part. They hadn’t planned on staying overnight here, but he’d packed it anyway. The thought that Holden is desperate for any possibility of a hook-up only makes the arousal in Bill’s belly churn harder. 

Holden peeks over his shoulder with eager, blue eyes as Bill shuffles closer to the bed. He shifts on his knees, arching his spine to display himself ready and willing. 

Bill takes his time stripping out of his clothing, maintaining their quiet, longing gaze. When he’s down to his boxers, he climbs onto the edge of the mattress, and kneels behind Holden’s raised backside. 

Holden presses his eyes shut, uttering a soft whimper as Bill’s slow perusal takes in the bunched squeeze of his shoulder muscles, the delectable curve of his spine, and the ample swell of his ass cheeks spread open by his bent over position to expose his dusky, pink hole and swollen balls. 

Bill strokes his knuckles over the unblemished curve of one ass cheek, taking in the pale wash of skin before he turns it raw and red with the strike of his palm. 

Holden’s hips tense, and he sucks in a tremulous breath. 

Bill lets his fingers fall slowly along the curve of Holden’s ass cheek to his inner thigh. 

Holden hips roll back against the caress, giving Bill a glimpse of his hard cock reaching up for his belly. 

“Rock hard already, hm?” He murmurs, stroking his knuckles down Holden’s inner thigh. 

Holden nods, and trembles. “Yes, sir.”

“Show me.” 

Holden draws in a shaky breath, and carefully reaches between his thighs. Grasping his cock by the root, he pushes it down so that it’s almost in line with his thighs, and offers Bill an unobstructed view of the thick, pulsing length. 

Bill brushes his fingers across the swollen head, feels it twitch violently to his touch. 

Holden groans, his hips recoiling softly. His hand retreats from between his thighs, and his cock bounces back up against his belly, out of Bill’s reach. 

Palming Holden’s bare hip, Bill reaches between Holden’s thighs to take his cock in his own fist, and drag it back down. He jerks Holden slowly, watching the arch and shiver of Holden’s spine, the tentative grind of his hips reacting against the tension. 

Holden cries softly when Bill’s stroking reaches down to the root and locks in place. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Bill asks. 

Holden exhales a shaky breath. “Yes. If you keep doing that-”

Bill lets go, and Holden whimpers as the hard flesh swings into rigid, upright posture again. 

“I’ll tell you when you can come.” Bill murmurs, dragging his palm over Holden’s ass cheek. 

“Please,” Holden whispers, arching back against Bill’s touch. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

“I’ve barely touched you. You know what I think?”

“What?” Holden whispers, meekly.

“You need to learn some self-control. Some discipline.” 

Holden’s eyes slip open to gaze at Bill with a haze of agonized need. His teeth scrape across his lower lip before he draws in a hitched breath and nods obediently.

“Yes.” He whispers, raspily. “Please. Are you going to teach me a lesson?”

Bill bites the inside of his cheek as heat rushes his chest. He’s never had a problem maintaining control in the bedroom before, but Holden’s high-pitched, whimpered voice does something to his brain. Something destructive and wild, like he’s standing on the edge of a bridge on the verge of stepping off into the open air. He can’t help but fall every time. 

“Yes.” He says, conjuring a calm tone. “One you won’t forget.”

Holden squirms as Bill rubs his hand over both ass cheeks, priming the skin to his touch. Bracing a hand against Holden’s lower back, he trails his palm all the way down the backs of Holden’s thighs and up again, fondling his ass cheeks and spreading him open. 

Holden stiffens as Bill’s thumb rubs up against the dry pucker of his hole, dragging coarse friction across the sensitive area. He flinches, a whimper emerging from beyond his clenched jaw. Despite the brusque touch, he urges back against Bill’s hand, taking the tip of Bill’s thumb with a shuddering moan. 

Bill grinds his thumb just inside the opening for a long moment before withdrawing his hand. 

Holden gasps softly. His hips collapse in relief when the rough massage ends, but the tension quickly returns as Bill’s hand lingers in position above his trembling backside, letting the promise of impending punishment swell in the humming air. 

Bill steadies himself with a deep breath before plunging ahead. When his hand flies back down, the first clash of skin-on-skin makes his palm sting and his blood surge, and Holden lurch beneath him, uttering a choked cry as a red handprint blooms on his ass cheek. 

Bill waits for Holden’s squirming to calm down before doling out another. Holden flinches and moans, hips rocking forward and back again; the grinding undulation is erotic and enthralling, a repetitive pattern that Bill can’t look away from. 

He strikes again, watching the clench of muscle and the flare of pink before Holden arches back eagerly for more. His tender responsiveness is met with resilience, a combination that only makes what Bill is doing to him even more heady. His determination not to break only makes Bill want to break him more, a vicious cycle of pain and need, submission and control that they can’t seem to stop repeating. 

After another four strikes, Holden’s backside is blushing pink and Bill’s palm is tingling with friction. He shifts impatiently against the mattress as Bill squeezes both ass cheeks, encouraging the rush of color and the low, humming sting that’s undoubtedly beginning to set in. 

“Please …” He whimpers softly, arching his hips back in a deliberate offering. 

Bill listens to him plead softly for a few moments before withdrawing his touch and cocking his hand back. Fixing his other palm against Holden’s lower back, he swings down harder. 

Holden’s body clenches upon impact, but he doesn’t move. He endures as Bill shifts into a steady, deliberate rhythm, the crack of his palm meeting Holden’s backside cutting through the air like repeatedly striking lightning. Every blow is met with a choked whimper and a gasp, but his hips remain locked back in position, accepting the spankings without twisting away the way he had the first time in his apartment. 

Bill counts them in his head, getting all the way to ten before he pauses to let Holden’s flushed backside cool against the air. His palm hums from the friction, but the faint sting only encourages the stampeding, breathless satisfaction burgeoning in his chest and belly. 

Whimpering, Holden shifts against the mattress. He peeks over his shoulder at Bill, and his eyes are glazed and blown with need, his face all pink with nearly the same shade as his backside. 

Bill brushes his fingertips across the raw, pink skin, and Holden flinches, his eyes squeezing shut. 

“Stings, doesn’t it?” Bill asks. He likes to hear Holden say it, to admit in that small, choked voice of his how much he likes the mounting pain. 

Holden nods, his lower lip trembling. “Yes. Please, can I have more?”

Bill purses his lips against his own groan building in the back of his throat. Maybe if Holden didn’t keep coming back for more, all stupid and reckless and beautiful, he could have ended this the first time around. It could have died in Sacramento, but Holden couldn’t let that happen, even if it had been for his own good; now here they are. 

Bill wields his hand with a more vicious strike, fast, hard and cutting. 

Holden yelps quietly, his whole body lurching forward beneath the blow. 

This stinging series of swats is harder, forceful impact that makes Holden’s hips rock forward and his back arch helplessly with every blow. Bill can tell he’s trying not to cry out at every spanking, but he fails miserably, choking on the strangled sounds and groaning in the back of his throat. His fingers curl tighter around the edge of the mattress, blanching white and tearing at the sheets when Bill’s hand comes down particularly hard. 

Bill pauses, and Holden pants into the silence, his mouth slipping open against the sheets. 

Bill grazes his palm over the heated skin, the deep blush working down through the superficial layers of skin to plant itself in vivid, lingering rose.

“You still want more?” Bill asks. 

Holden mutters a quiet, indistinguishable noise, and Bill gives him a single, hard spanking that makes his body leap. 

“I can’t hear you.” 

“Yes.” Holden rasps, “Please. I can take it.” 

Bill grits back a rueful smile at Holden’s choked assertion. As he grazes his fingertips across the fresh bloom of pink, Holden shudders and arches away from the more delicate touch. Bill pulls him back into position, spine arched, hips cocked up. Grasping one ass cheek, he stretches Holden open so that he can rub his thumb in a slow, firm circle against the hole again. 

Holden whimpers, hips instinctively curling away from the caress that grinds raw against his dry, unprepared opening. 

Bill forces the curve back into his spine with a hand on his lower back, and gives him a hard swat on each ass cheek. 

“Stay still.” He orders. 

“Ohh … ohhh-” Holden moans with each spanking, but goes utterly still. 

Bill rubs his fingers down into the cleft, drawing the sound out into a staggered gasp. When Holden is arching back against the touch, dry and promising nothing, Bill uses two rigid fingers to slap the area gently. 

Holden recoils, a gasp tearing from the back of his throat. “Oh God, Bill-”

Bill spanks him hard again, and the submissive arch snaps obediently back into Holden’s spine. He cowers, quivering softly as Bill drags his fingertips down the cleft, priming the tender opening before using the same harsh strike as before. 

Holden squirms, giving a valiant effort at remaining in position before the hardest slap lands, and he wrenches away again. 

Bill’s palm cracks across his backside, and he sinks down, whispering desperately, “Oh, please. Bill, please, I can’t-”

“What do I have to do to make you stay still, hm?” Bill asks, casting a sharp glance up at Holden’s face half-buried in the sheets. 

Holden peers up at him, his eyes wide with aroused horror and his cheeks flushed deep, humiliated pink. 

“Hmm?” Bill grunts, giving Holden’s flank a nudge. 

Holden pries his cheek away from the mattress, and lifts his head to offer Bill a bashful gaze. 

“You could …” He whispers, his voice choking off. He closes his eyes for a moment before pressing on. “You could tie me down.”

Bill pauses, his chest thudding in the absolute silence of the hotel room. His veins rush with need, a dizzy equilibrium that takes over his brain. He’d made it clear he expects Holden to communicate his wants and his limits, but he’s constantly surprised by how far Holden is willing to push himself. 

Bill nods, managing a cool demeanor. “I don’t think anything else will cut it since you can’t seem to control yourself.”

Holden purses his lips, blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Stay there.” Bill says. 

Holden lowers his head to the sheets as Bill gets up to search his bag. The tie he’d been wearing earlier during the crash is discarded on top, it’s pale blue paisley pattern easily forgettable until this very moment. Once it’s knotted and wrinkled around Holden’s wrists, he’s never going to forget just how well it compliments Holden’s pale, unblemished skin, a living memory subtly invading his daily life. 

He carries the tie back to the bed, and loops it under Holden’s extended, limp wrists. Holden lifts his forehead from the sheets to watch as the tie winds around his wrists, drawing them close together before Bill knots the ends around the metal rung of the headboard. He tugs on it to test the strength of the knot, and it doesn’t budge. 

Holden swallows hard, taking in the image of his tied hands with eyes already glazed over with pain and need. 

Bill’s pulse spikes as he crawls back behind Holden’s crouched body, viewing the trussed up display with desire crashing through his belly. Part of him wants to stop and fuck Holden senseless right this minute, to watch his wrists bolt against the restraint every time Bill’s cock hits his prostate, but the red on his ass cheeks isn’t quite substantial enough. There’s still some fight left in him, some blue flame trickling from his raw, slapped asshole.

Putting his hand on Holden’s lower back, Bill gives Holden a few light swats before shifting back into the hard, brutal spankings that crack on repeat against his tender, blushing skin. 

Holden’s wrists pull the tie taut, causing the metal bed frame to give out a whining protest. His moans rise above the noise and the sound of Bill’s palm falling, choking free of his throat with every blow. As the raw pain across his ass increases, the recoil of his hips takes longer and longer to lapse back into an arched position, until finally, Bill grabs him by the hip to pin him in place. His cries sharpen when the spankings grow harder and faster, peppering his backside with swift, cutting blows that are separated by scarce, fleeting seconds. 

When he’s squirming helplessly and muttering strangled pleas, Bill pauses to examine the raw, red blush spreading across Holden’s ass cheeks. He strokes his thumb over the tender skin, drawing a low whine from Holden. 

“Fuck …” Holden whispers, his teeth scraping at his lower lip. “Oh, that hurts.”

Bill smiles softly as he reaches between Holden’s thighs to find his cock still as rock hard as it was when they first entered the hotel room. 

Holden shudders, his hips leaning back into the faint caress. “Oh God. Bill, please-”

Bill strokes more deliberating, relishing Holden’s gasps and moans of pleasure. As Holden begins to stiffen, he slides his grip down to the root where the urgent pulsing stems. 

“You’re not thinking of coming are you?”

Holden shakes his head, vehemently. “No.” 

“You sure?”

“Yes. Not until you say.” Holden promises, his ragged with needy gasps. “Please.” 

Bill lets him go, and Holden leans forward, breathing heavily. He lets him rest for a moment before clutching Holden’s hip, and urging him back into his raised position. Moaning softly from the back of his throat, Holden moves pliantly under Bill’s guidance, until his ass is raised in the air and vulnerable to the touch. 

He flinches, but stays still as Bill’s fingertips wander along the outer curve of his ass. Bill traces his way along both ass cheeks, relishing the deep, lingering blush and the scattering of goosebumps that arise when he gets down closer to the backs of Holden’s thighs. As he grazes his fingers along the cleft, Holden draws in a sharp breath and stiffens. Bill can’t hear him breathing while he strokes the dry pucker of his hole with his thumb. He presses a bit harder, and Holden whines and rocks back against the raw sensation. 

Bill keeps the pressure steady as he slides his thumb all the way down the cleft, pushing down along the stretch of his ballsack. 

“Oh my god-” Holden whispers in a choked voice, body tensing. 

Bill slips his fingers underneath of them, and gathers their delicate weight in his palm. Applying just the slightest pressure garners a shudder from deep in Holden’s body, and a high-pitched moan that’s immediately muzzled in the sheets. 

Bill rolls Holden’s balls out of his hand. He lets Holden waver there, untouched and flinching with overwhelming anticipation before he gives them a light slap with the inside of his tightly joined fingers. 

Holden lurches against the stiff knot of the tie, a sharp gasp rising his throat. 

Bill strokes the spot softly, letting Holden settle back down against the sheets again before repeating the action. 

“Oh, fuck.” Holden cries, softly, his voice all choked and breathless. He twists away from Bill’s touch, panting through his nostrils. 

Fondling Holden’s ass cheek, Bill gives him a moment to breathe through the minor shock. 

“Does that hurt too much?” He murmurs. 

Holden shakes his head, and whispers in a low, scraped voice, “No.” 

Bill fondles his balls a moment longer before dragging his fingers back up into the cleft. Holden freezes, his shoulders tensing with shocked anticipation. He doesn’t move as Bill massages him, warming the skin to his touch and building a burning friction in the unlubricated hole. 

“Oh, please …” Holden whines quietly, his hips tensing against the friction. 

Bill urges Holden’s hips up higher so that his ass is raised in the air and his cheeks are spread open, his hole exposed. Bending down, he lets the heat of his breath wandering across the sensitive skin heighten Holden’s tensed anticipation before extending his tongue to lick a slow, wet stripe across his hole. 

“Oh my god …” Holden groans, arching back against the slick heat of Bill’s mouth. “Yes.”

Bill swirls his tongue around the hole, feeling the muscles quiver and clench beneath his touch. Narrowing in on the taut pucker, he tightens his lips around it, and sucks down slowly, applying pressure until Holden cries aloud and arches away. 

Holden bucks, gasping and moaning with overwhelmed sensation, and Bill lets him go. Leaning back on his heels, he watches as Holden shifts impatiently against the sheets, his wrists writhing inside the restraint of the tie. 

“Fuck, please-” Holden chokes, opening his eyes to cast Bill a pleading gaze. 

Bill catches him by the flank, and draws him in closer. “Please what?”

“Fuck me.” Holden whispers, his teeth scraping at his lower lip. “Please, I’m so hard.”

Bill follows the shivering line of Holden’s spine with his gaze, stopping at his hole, slick with saliva and pink from friction. He slides his fingertips down over the knob of Holden’s spine and into that slick furrow, brushing up against the clenched opening that’s just begging to be worked open. 

“God, yes.” Holden chokes, pushing back against the slight pressure. 

Clutching one ass cheek, Bill spreads him open again, only to dole out another handful of hard slaps across the taut pucker. 

Holden lurches away from each one, his face twisted in pleasured agony. His knees lock together as Bill works his way lower against his aching balls. 

Bill’s hand cracks viciously over Holden’s backside. “Open your legs.”

Holden whimpers, pressing his forehead to the mattress. “Please-”

“Do you want to come?”

Holden groans, and nods. “Yes.”

“You’re not acting like you do.” 

“No, I do. Please.” Holden whispers, desperately, his thighs slowly submitting to Bill’s nudging.

“Come on.” Bill urges, softly, giving Holden’s inner thigh a squeeze. “Open them.”

Holden exhales shakily, and shifts his legs apart slowly. 

“A little more.” 

Holden groans quietly as he stretches his legs apart across the mattress, wide enough that Bill can see his cock dangling rock hard between them, twitching desperately for release. 

Bill strokes his balls, and Holden stiffens with a shudder of pleasure and a clench of anticipation. He gathers them in his hand, kneading gently, drawing low whimpers and gasps from Holden’s throat. 

“Oh my god, I’m so close.” Holden whispers, his voice shaking. “Bill, please-”

He’s still shuddering with approaching pleasure when Bill lets him go, and spanks him again. He lets his hand fly, coarse and swift, across Holden’s backside, but Holden resiliently keeps his knees dug into the mattress. His legs remain stretched apart through to the end, right until one pair of fingers are closing around the root of his balls and the others are applying a slap that stings just enough to make him shudder and cry. 

“God, please.” 

_ Slap,  _ again. And Holden nearly sobs, his arms locking against the knotted tie. 

“Please, don’t make me … Please-” He moans, his voice shaking and dwindling to a helpless whimper. 

Bill lets him go, satisfied with Holden’s absolute compliance, and Holden sinks down against his heels, his hips curling inward in a trembling recoil. He lays still, breathing hard for a long moment, before he slowly lifts his head to peer over his shoulder at Bill with misty eyes. 

“Please … are you going to fuck me now?”

Bill grabs the Vaseline from the sheets, and discards the lid. Dipping his fingers into the ointment, he leans forward to drop a kiss on Holden’s lower back. 

“Yes.” He murmurs, “And you’re going to come so hard for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Holden pants, nodding eagerly against the sheets. “Please.” 

Bill’s Vaseline slick fingers slip into him, and Holden’s mouth stretches open. He arches back against the pressure, the satisfied plea repeating over and over again, “Yes, yes, please, oh please.”

Bill bites his his lower lip in concentration as he watches the pleasure shift across Holden’s face. He keeps his touch away from Holden’s prostate, pumping his fingers in at a deep, searching pace that works him open but keeps him on the verge of pleasure. 

Holden rocks back against the pressure, deliberately fucking himself on Bill’s pumping finger. He quickly submits to the narrow pressure of one finger, and begs helplessly for another, his voice hoarse and wrecked with desperation. He’s shuddering, his moans choked on the verge of a sob, by the time Bill has two fingers in him, thrusting deliberately on an abundant glaze of the ointment. 

Bill swallows back the sound of his own moans as Holden gapes eagerly to his touch, his hole going all lax and pliant, an erotic sight right beside his blushing cheeks. The sound of his moans trickles across Bill’s senses like the hum of an electric burn, the magnetic pull of a siren drawing him in. 

He spills a sloppy hand over his cock, dressing it in the lubricant with a few hasty pulls before nudging the head up against Holden’s opening. With a gasp he slips inside, feeling his brain go all fuzzy with the surge of velvet, slick heat around him. Holden’s hole quivers around him, swallowing his cock down hungrily, drawing him in until their bodies are slapping together.

Bill clutches Holden’s bare hip with one hand, and rubs the other down his arching, trembling spine. Holden’s back undulates beneath the caress, a living, fleshly signpost that this is real - Holden’s asshole is taking his cock, he’s moaning in pleasure, he’s begging for more; moreover that Bill has never felt quite this satisfied fucking anyone else, and that every time they have sex, that gripping, overwhelming realization doesn’t ease one little bit. 

Keeping a steady pace, Bill fucks into Holden until he feels the pleasure start to climb in hot, gripping tingles through his belly and chest. He’s clinging to bits of his own resolve, overwrought and painfully aroused, wanting to extend this moment as far as he possibly can - but more than that, wanting to watch Holden fall apart at the same frantic pace that he is. 

Pulling back, Bill grabs Holden by the thigh, and rolls him over onto his back. 

Holden spills onto the bed sheets with his arms knotted above his head, and his legs splayed open across the sheets. He gazes up at Bill with wide, entranced eyes and dangling lips, awestruck with pleasure and pain as Bill pushes between his thighs. 

Wrangling Holden’s legs up against his chest, Bill thrusts back into him. He leans forward to brace his hand against the headboard as their bodies lock together in this new position. He can feel the way they slot together, almost perfectly, as if Holden has assimilated him, taken him, carved out the rough edges so that they join divinely enough that he might never want to leave the sensation. 

Holden urges against him as Bill’s thrusts slow down into a jagged, helpless grind. 

“Please …” He pants, casting Bill a dazed look of absolute need. He tugs impatiently on the tie wrapped around his wrists. “Please, I'm so close.” 

Drawing in a deep breath, Bill resumes his thrusting. Holden cries out, his eyes slamming shut, and his head tilting back in tensed pleasure. His cock writhes against his belly, all pink and swollen and desperate. The tip is glistening with pre-cum, about to shoot off into ecstatic release with just the right touch. 

Bill takes it in his hand, and watches Holden’s mouth stretch open against the powerful sensation. 

“Yes, yes …” He gasps, “Oh, Bill, I’m … I’m so-”

Bill jerks Holden’s cock in rhythm with the thrust of his hips, surging into a faster pace as Holden’s strained cries of need mount. He’s rubbing quickly, fiercely when Holden’s spine snaps into a taut, shuddering arch, and his mouth opens wide in an empty cry of pleasure. With a deep, hard spasm that Bill can feel around his cock, he comes in copious bursts of slick release. Cum dapples his belly and chest and dribbles down his sides as he writhes and bucks through the orgasm. As the strongest wave passes, his strangled throat gives out a scraped gasp that quickly evolves into blissful moans.

Bill braces both hands against the headboard as his thrusts hasten, driven by a primal hunger clawing at his insides that demands release. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focuses on the stroke of Holden’s hole around him, gently rippling in the aftermath of pleasure before it goes soft, open, and pliant to his cock. 

Holden whines and cries through the final seconds of deep, powerful blows, and Bill relishes the shocked and overwhelmed noises. Intense, gripping arousal floods his brain with that final, dizzying rush of breathless desire right before everything seizes and breaks. Clinging to the headboard, Bill bows over as the pleasure surges between his thighs, and the first surge of spasms all but cripple him. A choked cry stretches from his throat right before he loses sight of the bland, hotel surroundings. For a few blissful moments, all he can think about is the next gripping wave of climax racing through him, the brilliant seize of every muscle clamping down in pleasure, and the lovely sensation of his ejaculate filling up every available space in Holden’s limp, trembling body. 

As the orgasmic daze lifts and the spasms ease, Bill’s eyelids slip open. He’s breathing hard, his hands trembling and sweaty around the top rung of the headboard. He feels like he’s coming off a high - none that he’s ever experienced before, but the type that keeps getting sharper and brighter with every hit. 

And below him is the source, the tough drug he can’t stop tasting. 

Holden stares up at him with his wide blue eyes, endless like the sea. His mouth is soft and open, expelling tiny gasps of satisfaction while his nostrils flare on every deep inhale. With his belly covered in cum and his cheeks flushed pink, he’s the perfect picture of indulgent devastation, the delicious end result of Bill’s prodigious appetite. There’s still a few morsels left of him, a few spots left untouched, skin unbranded by what they’ve just done. 

Bill sinks down, still hungry, and kisses him hard across the mouth. Holden moans delightedly into the gesture, and lifts his head from the pillows to offer his compliance. Bill strokes and licks against Holden’s open, trembling lips, eating up the sweet tang of his saliva and the vibration of his moans. His mouth submits to Bill’s kiss, yielding in the same eager, addictive way his body does when Bill is fucking into him. 

Bill tears his mouth away, panting quietly. He slips his eyes open to glimpse Holden's expression, happily destroyed, begging for more. 

_ Christ, he makes it so easy. Too fucking easy.  _

Bill crawls out from between Holden’s thighs, and sinks down to the sheets beside him on his back. Focusing on the ceiling, he tries to catch his breath, and reorder this thoughts into some kind of logical pattern. The stop gaps, the limits, the rules. Just sex - just incredible, mind-blowing, satisfying sex the likes of which he hasn’t experienced in far too long. 

Holden’s breathing slows until it’s almost quiet in the hotel room. Bill slowly peeks over at him, reading his profile in the amber glow of the bedside lamplight. The sunset has drained away entirely, leaving them in shadows, but Holden’s eyes are clearly visible when they shift over to meet his. 

“How was it?” Holden whispers, “Did I do good?”

Bill clenches his jaw, a part of him wanting to wrap Holden up in arms, and shower him with praise. Instead, he gives a stoic nod. 

Holden exhales, softly. “Good.” 

Bill shifts his gaze back to the ceiling. He figures he should get up and get a shower, wash the filth of this encounter off him. He curls his fist in his lap. His palm is still tingling, the lingering friction of impact living inside a dull ache. What they’re doing has a lengthy half-life, hanging on in the back of his mind, drawing him back for more. 

Holden clears his throat. “Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you … you think we’re terrible people?” 

Bill frowns, his eyes swinging instinctively from the ceiling to meet Holden’s. “What?”

“Doing this.” Holden whispers, “Are you worried we’re like them?”

Bill pushes up on his elbows with a grunt, and reaches over to grab his cigarettes from the nightstand. Holden’s gaze watches him intently as he flicks the lighter open and brings the flame to the tip. 

“Holden, I’ll let you in on a secret.” Bill says, puffing on his cigarette, and tossing the lighter aside. “We’re all terrible people. In our own little ways.”

Holden blinks up at him, a tiny frown creasing his brow. 

“You, me, everyone.” Bill says, “We’ve all done things we regret, destroyed things that we cared about, taken things that didn’t belong to us … And we’re going to keep doing it because it’s in our nature. It’s just a matter of degree and severity.”

“You really think so? That’s kind of a bleak outlook.”

“Bleak but true.” Bill says, reaching over to ash his cigarette in the tray. He casts Holden a grimaced smile. “You should stop trying to convince yourself otherwise. You’ll disappoint yourself every time.” 

Holden falls silent, and Bill can all but see the thoughts turning behind his eyes, picking apart the logic and the advice. 

Bill finishes smoking his cigarette, and stamps it out in the tray. 

“Come on.” He says, managing a light tone. “We need to get cleaned up.”

Holden’s gaze clings to his face as he leans over to untie the knot from around his wrists. When the tie slides free, he pulls his wrists down against his chest where he rubs at the raw, red marks imprinted on his skin. 

Bill leaves him in the disheveled sheets, and crosses the room to the bathroom. He pauses to relieve himself at the toilet before turning the shower on, and holding his fingers under the spray of water to test the temperature. 

Holden joins him at the threshold, and leans his shoulder against the door jamb. His mouth is set in a pensive line. 

“It doesn’t feel terrible.” He says, quietly. 

Bill casts him a narrowed glance, waiting for elaboration. 

“When we’re … doing it.” Holden whispers, his cheeks blushing softly. “It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels amazing.” 

“Then just take it for what it is.” 

Holden’s mouth tugs in a faint smile. “Yeah.”

“You think too much, you know that?” Bill says, catching him by the wrist and dragging him closer. “Come here.”

Holden leans into his chest as he imparts a slow kiss on his soft, plush lips. Moaning softly, he opens his mouth to the gradual curl of Bill’s tongue, and finally, the dragging suckle of his mouth across Holden’s lower lip. 

They break apart, and Holden pants quietly, his gaze turned eagerly up to Bill’s, shining with subdued adoration. Behind their glazed blue, Bill can see the damn car spinning out again, that brief second when he’d thought he was about to lose Holden. All of his worst and best hopes are there, trapped inside Holden’s longing gaze, and he feels doomed to repeat this night again and again, too caught up in the satisfying feedback loop to break the cycle. 

_ He’s burning.  _ Bill thinks as he pulls Holden into the shower with him, kissing him beneath the rain of warm, cleansing water.  _ Burning, and burning every bridge behind him. But, Jesus Christ, what a way to go.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm [prinxcesskayy](https://prinxcesskayy.tumblr.com//) on Tumblr!  
> 


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